At six on the dot, Cash strolled into the galley with a large insulated bag, his hair damp, like the Batman T-shirt and jeans. “It started to rain as I pulled into the lot,” he responded to the unasked question, placing the bag by the sinks.
“Care to unpack while I change?” He kissed the tip of my nose. “You still look like a r****h, but a cute one. I hope you like Middle Eastern.”
“I do,” I confirmed to the departing figure. “We have Middle Eastern on Oahu?”
“There"s a great little place near King and Cooke.”
Onto the table went generous servings of hummus and grilled pita bread, chicken shawarma, tabbouleh, an herb and bulgur salad, and shakshouka, a sort of stew with softly-cooked eggs in spiced tomato sauce. Baklava stayed on the counter. It was too tempting to bite into one of the
